“I crashed down from a high that felt so real
I never knew how much it would hurt to feel
You gotta hurt sometimes to learn to heal
You gotta get back up and learn to deal, yeah”
-“Some Kind of Disaster” by All Time Low
Today my therapist asked me whether or not I thought I had truly recovered. My immediate response was defense. Of course- I mean I’ve come so far, how can I say no to that question? She made me sit and think about it. The conclusion I came to was that I had never worked harder for something in my entire life. Recovery is hard. Whatever they tell you about it doesn’t give those recovering enough credit, but all the cliches are true: it’s possible. When I actually take a step back and look at my life, I am happy, and making progress.
It’s really easy to feel good on the productive days and shitty on the lazy ones. I’m honestly so tired right now and I can’t tell if it’s the depression, school work, or life. It’s probably all three. The claws of anxiety have reeled me back in recently, and I have to say that I did not miss having panic attacks. I don’t necesarily think that knowing you’ve had good days makes the bad ones any better, but I think the possibility of even better ones can keep you going when the going gets rough.
I honestly don’t have a lot to talk about other than that this week, but I figured maybe pictures can tell a story better than words. Right?
Wishing you all the best,
Stan
Long Drives in the Dark 